Feral
by SilverCrystal029
Summary: Logan sustains injuries that might change all that he is. Some are certain the he will return, but others wonder if they should move on. One thing is certain, the institute will never be the same as the X-Men learn what 'feral' means.
1. Prologue: Sentinels

Rogue always felt ill equipped against sentinels. Weak. Naked. Useless. Her fight was a dog fight, twice as hard unless a mutant was incapacitated. And, that wasn't a good thing. Her new strength was near the Juggernaut's, and helpful against one sentinel. Not really a fleet. Still, they stood together against them all. Jean had long since tapped into that different side of herself, the fiery one. The powerful one. The _scary_ one. It was at the professor's urging, the odds had been stacked against them from the beginning.

It's hard to keep an eye on everybody, much less keep from being stomped. Rogue was leaning down to help her old roommate stand after running smack into a parked car. She didn't see the robot locking it's sights onto both of them. The man running from yards away, desperate to take the blast before they do. Screams pouring in from every side. Kitty's got skinned knees, short haired disheveled.

Rogue's not sure what happened, how they got there. On the ground. Jean's shrieking, but she's not in pain. She's not afraid, either. She's enraged. Logan's almost reduced to an adamantium skeleton sitting on the concrete. If there is an afterlife, he's just been sent there. Even if he comes back and heals, regenerates. He's always hinted that they had no idea the power of his healing factor. It was more a revival factor, than anything. At least, Rogue prays as she covers Kitty's eyes out of instinct.

The smaller girl is struggling wildly, knowing that Logan's been changed forever.

What would remain of their dear friend would not be pretty. Ororo is raging in the sky as well, shrieking as winds toss and rain pelts them all. Rogue's hair clings to the bottom of her neck as Kitty sobs. Covers her eyes from the horrors of what she's seeing. It's getting too long, she needs to cut it. It's like this because a lazy, southern mutant kind of likes it. She shivers in the rain as Logan's metal frame remains, muscle pulsing and twitching on it.

_"LOGAN!_" Jean is swinging sentinels overhead, indiscriminately setting fires. Her eyes flaming for what they've just done to her friend. Tears sting Rogue's eyes when she sees what's left of him struggle to move. Kurt gallops over to brace them both, taking Kitty into his arms when she cries out. Piotr runs over and gathers Logan into his arms, steel face pulled tight. Rogue rose and hovered to meet him. She didn't care what she had to see, she had to make sure the rough man was okay.

Hank and Charles have worried about over-taxing his healing factor, or what could happen to his splintered mind. He could wake up amnesiac, not remembering any of them. He could regress. End up the feral monstrosity he arrived to the institute, as. Any number of things could take place when he woke up, and only time will tell. The more Rogue thought about, the more she felt panic tighten a vice around her chest._ 'Oh god, he...' _

"Breathe, child." Ororo instructs, her skin pale and sallow. She's also trying to erase the image of Logan being seared from her mind. And, failing. She placed a hand on Rogue's shaking shoulder and places her stare on the ground as everyone else filed in. Piotr and Hank towards the back of the jet, working furiously to try and make Logan comfortable. The pain he would be in is unimaginable. Kitty wails at the passing thought.

Jean stumbled behind Scott in a stupor, completely wiped from her unpredictable powers. She had not been herself after seeing Logan be incinerated. These episodes had been rising in both frequency and intensity, much to the fear of her boyfriend. Scott settles her down in her seat and peers in her face for a long moment. "Get some rest." He whispers, buckling the seatbelt for her with a sigh.

He took a personal head count, checking on each member of the team and then on the back.

When he resembled a human again, Hank allowed Rogue to sit with him. Jean and Kitty couldn't stand to, both of them crying most of the way home. Rogue watched his muscles knit back together, layers of skin slowly form. Other than his rapid healing, he was completely still. His eyes didn't flicker behind eyelids, his knuckles didn't twitch in his sleep. He was deep. Unconscious. Far away. The man was almost never still, least of all on the rare occasions he slept. It was unnatural and devastating to witness.

Rogue didn't have to speak to how terrified she looked, draped in a blanket and waiting for his hands to have enough skin to hold.

There was no telling what Logan was waking up.

* * *

_"Rogue..._ You heard it from Hank, himself." The girl was practically bristling in the corner, desperate to stay in the infirmary. Still in her X-Suit, stained with other's blood. Logan was fully healed. Brief probing by Charles revealed he could awaken at any moment, and Scott felt it'd be dangerous for any of the girls to be there. He empathized with her, but nobody's safety could be compromised. "Logan could wake up in a violent state, Rogue. His memories... You don't want to get hurt..."

"He wouldn't hurt me! He_ wouldn't_..." Scott pressed his mouth in a grim line when tears welled in her eyes. He reached out for her shoulder but she jerked away. She wasn't in the mood for one of his speeches.

"I know this is difficult, Rogue. Beli-"

"He_ never_ left. Not once. Every time Ah was laid up, here." Scott's eyes softened behind his glasses.

"I know. He's... A good guy. And, he'll be okay. It just might take _time_..." They didn't notice the man begin to move, behind him. He'd been dragged down to the essence of nothing, but now he was being shot back to life. Words and higher thought escaped his mind. He was exhausted, fatigued from the effect of healing on his body. It's been a long time since he was injured this bad. Probably, since Charles found him.

He remembers pain. Fire. Claws. Robots._ Friends._ Are they okay? Where are they? His basic instincts of love and protection have survived, despite the abuse on his body and psyche. His mind, like a sponge, would probably suck who he was back up. Over time. But now, he's just an echo of who he's supposed to be. The basest parts of Logan Howlett. Wolverine. An animal.

He hears a hoarse, southern voice and it brings him closer to the surface. The voice is tied to certain parts of his brain. Happy. Protect. Worry. Sad. Kill. He growls silently at the rapidly changing emotions. His arms flex against the restraints binding him to the bed. They're severed with ease, and he's sitting up and sniffing. Both Rogue and Scott freeze, unsure if he was peaceful or not.

He sniffs a moment longer, detecting the presence of another male. He sees Rogue's white bangs and her long, brown trench coat and more memories trigger. He's moving in a fluid motion, Scott moving Rogue back despite her general invulnerability. He doesn't want to find out if Logan's claws can cut her skin. He doesn't go for Scott, he reaches up softly and touches the white of her hair.

"White. Stripe." He says, brow furrowed in concentration. He remembers her. Bikes. Riding. Camping. He remembers the little one. The goddess. The fiery one. The blue one. _"You._" He follows, his mind turning fast to speak._ 'Here.'_ She was always beside him. Scott's mouth is a agape as Rogue places her hands carefully on his shoulders.

_"Yes,"_ She shudders with a goofy smile. She hadn't slept all night, waiting to see which Wolverine they were met with. "Me." It was like the X-Men's leader wasn't even in the room. Logan reaches to touch her face but she stopped him. "No," She says sadly. "Gloves." She sees the confusion in his eyes. He remembers her, why wouldn't they touch? Perhaps he had underestimated the soothing effect the girl had. Maybe, Logan's recovery wouldn't be as steep as they worried. "See. You assumed the worst for no-"

"Hey, guys. I came to see how he's doing." Jean leaned against the doorway in familiar, baggy khakis. The peace was squashed. All hell broke loose.


	2. Queen

The sun set in Logan's eyes, and the kind and well intentioned look in them faded to hate. He saw the red of Jean's hair and explosions erupted into his mind. Love. Want. Everything. Fire. Pain. Hurt._ Mine._ Scott was entirely too close to his pack. The silver haired girl was classified as 'pup', at least in relation to him. A child. Maybe, not _his_ child, but one he was responsible for all the same. He had a lot of faces swirling in a murky mind he felt that way about.

But, not Scott. He may have been at one time, be he'd grown into the alpha. A leader, despite his understanding of feral politics. A rival. Competition. For Red. _"Redddd,_" He snarls, turning on a dime to the squeals of the girl in front of him. Stickers and wires hung off twitching skin as his claws reached for Scott, foam coming out of his mouth. "Auuuugh!" All he knew was that Scott was standing in his way. Of something.

The real Logan felt this way, even if he didn't face it. Five years had passed since Apocalypse, even Kitty had grown up. Something changed about Jean, though. She was more than woman, at least to him. And, before all of this, the chemistry was getting hard to deny. Things were in the process of boiling over before that mission. The subconscious feelings of Logan being set free showed this.

Jean's too shocked to move as Rogue barely keeps Logan's claws from piercing Scott. She's met with shocking resistance as he bellows. Scott's surprisingly even, waiting for the right time to say 'I told you so.' His eyes are narrowed behind his glasses as Logan gnashes and snarls in Rogue's hands, looking at him without recognition. He looked like a wild animal, bedraggled and covered in scars that were still fading. "Ya waitin' for him to_ kill you, Scott_?" Rogue hisses as footsteps thunder down the hall.

"Just... Enjoying the moment." He says, folding his arms in his X-Jacket. Jean's face is covered while Logan tries desperately to dice Scott.

_'Logan! Logan, you are among friends! Stop this!'_ Charles cried from Cerebro, taken there quickly when he realized Logan was awake. _'Allow me to help you, please!_' He cried out and covered his head, screaming bloody murder as both he and Rogue collapsed to the ground. Kitty came running through the back wall, falling to the wild man's side without even finding out what's going on.

Scott's face was as stoic as ever, trying to wonder if he wanted the answers to the questions he had for Jean. "Is that you? Or, the professor."

"I..." She prides herself on being much stronger, but she can't believe what she's seeing. Feeling. Jealous, sick to her stomach that Rogue was strong enough to restrain him, and not her. "I _can't._.." Scott watches in disbelief as she flees somewhere, right past Hank and Remy running around the corner.

"What's goin' on in here?" They cajun cries, staring at the destroyed infirmary room. Logan's managed to get his claws through a lot. He's not sure what to think when he sees his girlfriend wrestling with Wolverine on the ground. He looks mad, barely human in his eyes as he thrashed. He catches a whiff of the southerner's scent and changes courses, reaching wildly for him.

"Gambit, get_ outta_ here." Rogue orders, slamming Logan against the ground to Kitty's screams. "He _ain't_ himself!"

_"Grrrrr-AAAAAUAUGHHHH,"_ He looked around in horror through his fingers, his brain a scrambled mess of images and pain. Were these friends or enemies? Were the people he cared about in danger? Everything was fuzzy.

"You're_ hurting_ him..." Kitty cried, Kurt teleporting into the hall. Once he saw the commotion, he hung back. 'W-Wait a minute, Rogue-"

"Not me, Kitty. The professor's probably tryin' to help his head..." She explained, his claws bouncing off her impermeable skin. "Remy,_ now. Scooter,_ you too. Please." Hank placed a blue hand on Remy's shoulder as he backed away.

"Yeah, _sure._.." Scott drops his arms with a loud sigh.

"You were _saying, Rogue?_ That he isn't dangerous..."

"Stop it!"

"He's confused, Scott! He nearly died. He saved our_ lives!"_ Kitty is quick to defend. Even Scott couldn't deny that. He turned to exit the infirmary without another word, Logan finally slumping quietly against the ground. Rogue wiped her bangs with the back of her arm and wondered how they were going to get through this for the foreseeable future. Seeing one of her closest friends burned, then wake up like this was almost too hard. Kitty sniffled as Piotr broke through the doorway, looking around the room. He is relieved to see her, fine.

"He's... He's gonna be okay, right? He's... He's just tired." Kitty began, staring at how peaceful he looked passed out. She'd never seen him sleep or rest so soundly, before. "R_-Right?"_ Rogue stood and moved when Hank approached and gently lifted the man. He was so compact, small in comparison to his teammates. He's light work for the blue man to lift.

After examining the tears in her X-Suit, she flew out the room. _"Rogue!_" Kitty called. Suddenly, it was just her and Hank in the room with Logan, Kurt standing nervously in the hall.

"That vent vell." He tries with a smile. Kitty doesn't have the heart to smile as Hank gets him comfortable in the bed, his brow furrowed.

"You know," He says softly, and both younger mutants take care to listen. "His healing factor... It had to basically build him, anew. This has... Never happened before." Kitty wiped her face as Logan laid there, dead to the world, again.

"Is he getting _better_?" Kurt asks, his eyes on the ground. He hopes that what he saw wasn't any indication. He'd never seen him get so injured before, not even when the scientist messed with his head.

"He has a lot of healing to do." Hank forces himself to be more honest than he wants to. "But, also many a friend to help him get there. Right?" He forges a smile for them as he urges them out. "Go, rest. It's been a long couple of hours. Charles will come and do some work to help our friend." He wraps a furry arm around them both and tried to ignore the fear, anxiety, and heartbreak permeating the school. His senses were just as good as Logan's. "It shall be alright."

When he spies Piotr lingering in the hall, he relinquishes them from his grasp. Kurt looks around before disappearing, the girl drifting into broad, Russian arms. "Piotr is... Piotr is _sorry_, Katya." She nodded, feeling foolish when tears stained his white wife beater. He knew just how much the Canadian man meant to her. "Piotr... Knows it is hard. And is here, for you." She knew as much, struggling to wrap her arms around him.

"He's never been_ that_ bad..." She says, shaking in his arms. He hates to see the girl in pain he can't take away. It makes him want to break things. "P, I'm scared..."

"It is natural, to be scared. And, it takes a brave person to admit that._ Solntse vstayet, solntse padayet. Yeshche yest' zavtra.._" He brushed chocolate colored locks out of the girl's face. "The sun rises, the sun falls. There is still tomorrow. _Always,_ tomorrow." His massive hand slipped around her's.

"Thank you, P..."

"C'mon. Make you some tea, Katya."

* * *

Remy found Rogue standing on the roof, holding herself. She'd shed her old uniform (probably ruined after his Wolverine's claws got to it). She's hugging herself and standing in a long, dark trench coat. He doesn't spy her inhibitor collar around her neck, that means she was stressed. And, rightfully so. The cajun's heard of the horrific mission and is kicking himself for not going. For not being there to hold her, after. His face sours as he walks over, silently like a thief does.

He sees she's wearing the less flashy version of her X-Suit, plain black with a yellow belt (and a collar he was more of a fan of). She was wearing gloves, and her eyes were shut. "Like dis suit more den de other, _non?_ Don't need de armor no more..." He lights a cigarette when he catches the hard stare in grey eyes. She got like this when the man took off, when the man was angsting about Jean and his self destructive habits. But now, she actually had something to be worried about.

When she wasn't watching, he reached out and tucked silver hair behind her ear. "Wanna talk 'bout it?" He smiled when she snorted.

_"No."_ Her voice is cold, but he hears the fear and pain behind it. "He was _there,_ when Jean's powers went psycho... Both times." She says, tears forming a shield over her eyes. "He was there when Kurt got duped into Genosha. When Sinister took _Scott_," Her voice chokes. Before everything, he'd been there. And he'd helped them through it. When Kurt found out Mystique was his mother. When Scott joined Magneto. When half the team was taken by Mesmero. The memories are overwhelming to her.

"When ya momma almost killed ya, gave ya dos crazy powers." A tear finally rolled out of her eyes. She'd certifiably lost her mind in the fallout of Mystique's actions. Brainwashing, lies, and impersonations were only a few of the things Raven Darkholme had done to get her way. Rogue tore half of the mansion down, and nearly killed herself and an Avenger in the process. Only Logan's sure words had brought the cajun comfort during those dark times.

_"Y'ain't been around long enough, gumbo." He'd rasped, terror hidden in black eyes as Rogue laid motionless. She'd had bad times, before. But, her mother has left her on death's door. It's too much for Remy to bare, that she could be a casualty of Charles' dream. "It looks bad, but the kid's seen worse." He grimaces, her white hand hanging slack in his. "She'll be alright, I promise. And, I don't make promises I can't keep." And, he waited there until that was true. _

Remy dragged on the cigarette. "Ah don't know what the school will do _without him_." She still hasn't looked at him, her eyes scanning the darkness.

"He'll get better, _petite._ He got a lot of reasons." He insists, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. "He has you. An' minnou. An' Laura. An' Jean. Whole school. Y'worryin' too much." He tips her chin carefully with a gloved finger. "Y'know he be mad about ya worryin', cryin... Wouldn' want ya to."

"Tell me everythin' will be okay." She sounded so much like a child. It was a side she didn't readily show him. He wrapped long arms around her without another word. He wasn't sure himself, anymore. But, he'd do his best to make it that way.

"It be okay, petite. It be okay."

* * *

"Are you _sur_e she needs to be here." Charles is rubbing a pounding temple and Logan lays in front of them all, not getting any better. "He's dangerous, professor. He _shredded_ Rogue's uniform. I don't want her in any danger, he had a _reaction_ when he saw her." Scott's jabbing a finger on the ground, ready to argue.

"Scott, you know I'd_ never_ let anything happen to Jean." The tense tone of his voice silences the brunette, eyes locked on Logan's face. He's calm now, but who knew about later. He knows he should have way more sympathy. More patience. Way more gratitude that the man took a hit nobody else on the team could take. Take, and live to tell about it. Kitty and Rogue are still there, because of him. He's saved Jean more times than he could count. But, he knows he loves her. He has to, and his actions are just proof.

"I'll be able to keep him calm enough to help, Scott." She pleads, knowing she has no right to ask. "You _know_ I can handle myself." Her eyes harden beneath a curtain of fire engine hair. He sighs.

"Yeah. I know." She can tell from his clenched jaw that he wasn't pleased. He usually wasn't, these days.

"I'm... Going to see if there's anyway to bring his psyche to the forefront. It may be a certain injury his healing factor will have to heal, an injury of his mind. There's no telling how long that could take." Jean hung her head, praying it wasn't a waiting game. The mansion would be destroyed in a week.

"Trust us, Scott." It was getting increasingly hard for him to. Focused, Charles shut his eyes and and dove deep into the Weapon X's mind. He saw darkness, dark clouds and pain. Confusion. A psyche pushed over the limit. Dangerously close to snapping beyond repair. But, threads of him hung in tact. The memories of the people he knows need him kept him from being too far gone.

Charles groaned as he tried to go even deeper than he'd ever dared venture in somebody's mind._ 'I must... Help him, he is in pain.'_ Jean's forehead glowed pink, determined to soothe the man's mental anguish. But, even that was not enough. Charles wheeled back with a cry, sweat trailing down his brow as Jean rushed to his side. "Professor! Professor, what is it?"

He wiped his face with a frown. "I've never seen his mind more fragmented, not even when I first met him." Jean shut her eyes solemnly, but Scott just strokes his chin in thought. "What he still has are deep, strong attachments to the team he's spent the most time around. You, Rogue. Kitty. Jubilee. Kurt. The way his feral mind is working, he classifies people who may be their mates are something to _protect_ them from. Driving him to get better is a deep _need_ to protect."

"So, how do we make him understand what a real threat _is_?" Scott demands. "He can kill most of the people here, besides Rogue." He pales at the thought.

"It will take time, Scott. His body re-formed, from _nothing!"_ Jean's temper finally flared. Now was not the time for his jealousy, not when half the team has been traumatized. "We have to help him, like the professor did, before."

"It's different, now! He's_ worse_ than before, and-"

"And what? We're together? _Engaged?_" She held his stare before he turned around and stalked out of the infirmary.

"Everyone is stressed, Jean. This will get easier." He placed his hand overtop her's. "I have seen enough of our friend remain to know he will be okay, one day. This too, shall pass." His face was clearly troubled. And, as sure as he sounded. He had to wonder. _'Let him be okay...'_

* * *

_She is young, full of wild red hair and a face full of freckles. She's tiny, but she's not afraid of anything. Definitely not of him. He has to figure that's why he liked her, so much. His brain is one broken image to the next, full of pain, blood, and disgusting feelings. Bad things he knows he's done. Hurt and death that he knows he caused. And, no idea why. A trail of blood left behind him as he runs, mud and leaves and blood stuck to his face. On his tongue. _

_He showed up a mess, looking like a ghoul. But, Jean didn't flinch. Not even a child, one he could very easily destroy. Shred. Demolish. He'd thought of it before, but never again. He watched with interest as she moved a shaking chess piece with her mind. He can feel the power, the might rolling off of her. He doesn't need a fast working brain to understand that. She says she's always known he isn't bad, just confused. _

_He's shrugged in a strange, blue sweatshirt the paraplegic gave him. Watching as she practices her telepathy and her chess game. She was going to be very powerful one day. And, not because of her powers. Because, she was fearless. That went a long way. There were more people like them, but not all of them had no fear. He picked up a white, marbled pawn and examined it. _

_"Queen." Jean says, eyeing the board closer. _

_"Queen..." He repeated, arching a brow. Then, he smirked with amusement. "You." He pointed. Jean giggled._

_"Me?" The only thing that's made him feel human since he escaped is her smile. Her laugh. He would do much more to see it. He grunts in agreement. "Not a queen, silly. Just a little girl." He studies the delicate work put into carving the piece. Jean watches him without watching him, knowing he doesn't like to be studied. _

_"Princess." He settles for, placing the pawn down and taking one that looked like a horse. Her smile grows wide. _

_"You have been watching." _


	3. Cry

Remy studied skin tight, shiny black pants and a short t-shirt that did not do well to cover Rogue's navel. He marveled at growing hair and skin that's starting to turn pink outside in the sun. Freckles beginning to line flawless skin. Skin he's been dying to trace with his fingers. It'd been about a week since Logan's injury, and he hadn't been able to get the girl alone, since. Most of the girls were busy fawning over Logan. He paid dust to most of the boys, besides Kurt and Hank.

It was getting a little old for the southerner, and driving him absolutely insane for her touch. He pressed against her, not caring what person_ or_ feral saw. She was irresistible to him. "_Remy..."_

"Haven' caught ya alone in so long..." He nuzzled against her her hair, inhaling the scent of magnolias with a sigh. "Been missin ya, _chére._" He pulled his fingers into her belt loops, holding his stare with amused, grey eyes._ "Dreamt about ya_, last night..." She goes red just at the thought of the cajun's dreams. Rogue was very much a virgin. She still slept with stuffed animals and sometimes a nightlight. She feels so embarrassed as he stared through her, seeing her for the virginal prude she was.

"Remy," She says, looking to the grass. "You _scoundrel_." He traced his fingers over the earrings in her ear.

_"S'exactly_ what ya thinkin'." He grins even wider when the shade of red on her cheeks deepens.

_"Gambit..."_ She was so cute when she was flustered. Embarrassed. At a loss for what to say, for a change. It was his favorite expression on her. He was about to tell her that when something landed with a thud beside them, apparently from a tree. Before Remy can react (and he has good reflexes) a hand reaches out and grabs his shoulder. "No, _Logan-"_

He's pressed to the grass in seconds, wondering why he even bothered. Logan was the PDA police, he'd never get away with it. But, at least his claws weren't out, this time. He growled behind Remy's ear as Rogue screamed at him to calm. He was relentless, it was like he could smell arousal or their chemistry. Unfortunately for Remy, the wild man knew how to ruin a mood.

"Wolverine! Ah said _stop it!"_

_"Away_. Gumbo." The words could just be made out over all the snarling and howling. "Now."

"Alright, alright._ Now._" Remy held up a hand mockingly, feeling the last of his dignity escape him.

"Logan, ya_ can't_ keep doin' this. Ah've already told you, Ah'm an_ adult_." Logan laughed at that, turning his sights back to the red and black eyed thief on the ground. He pointed one claw.

"Fleabag." He said after some thought. "No."

_"Chienne-_" Remy let out a long string of french expletives. "You not her daddy, _homme."_ He was met with a face full of dirt. "An' Remy _ain't_ no damn fleaba-"

"Quiet." He barked, drool dripping from his mouth. He groaned when Rogue ripped him from the cajun with her strength. She was trying to get him to come to the decision himself, but he was incorrigible sometimes.

"Logan,_ Ah told you_. This behavior isn't acceptable. Remy is a _friend._" More than that, the cajun thought bitingly. The New Orleans native laughed on the ground as she pried them apart, forcefully. Friend was pushing the Canadian's luck.

"Friend, _aucun ami à moi_." He spat, feeling hostile as he dusted himself off. "Can' take much more of dis." Rogue sent him a pleading look as he scowled at them.

"Ah'll catch up with you in a minute, okay?" He sighed, knowing there was no use in being frustrated. Without Logan, he would've been attending funerals. He jammed his hands in his coat pocket and ambled off, annoyed that Logan was getting every single girl's undivided attention. When he was away, Rogue turned to Logan who was clad in a dark wife beater and jeans that were already covered in dirt. "Why? He's a _friend._" She pointed her finger for emphasis.

"No." He asserted, bristling. "Cry." He pointed at Rogue.

_'He remembers him makin' me cry...'_

She could probably think of when. A dangerous mission had left a lot of heated feelings on the plane ride home. Remy's jealousy of Rogue and Scott's relationship and her willingness to fling herself in the path of danger for him came to a head. Ten minutes later, she was crying beside Jean and Kitty, and Logan and Scott are screaming. He'd had to restrain himself, then. _"Cry."_ Logan repeated with folded arms. Rogue sighed and took a seat beside him.

"No, it's _okay."_ His nose wrinkled in disgust.

"No!" He says angrily.

_"Sometimes,_" Rogue fixes with exasperation. "People make mistakes. Me, _you._ It happens, Logan. Ah've forgiven him, can you?" He only stared at her for a moment.

"Soft." She rolled her eyes, never failing to be amazed how much of his mind he actually had.

"You're the one babysittin' mutant children." She's quick to retort. He barked a laugh, then growled.

"Give him... Too much credit." Every day it seemed his language expanded, more memories fueled his actions, he found new ways to communicate. Still, Rogue has to wonder if he will ever_ fully_ heal. If he'll be the Logan from before, if he does. What if he gets injured, again? What if he wants to leave when he heals? He sees the conflicted thoughts on her face and frowns. He pointed to her head, and then her chest. _"Protect._"

She smiled wistfully. "Protect my head and my heart, _huh_?" He nods. "No worries, there. C'mon." She grabbed his arm with gloved hands and they rose, his intent stare on her eyes. _'Sure he's cataloguing things he wants to say to me as soon as he's able to.'_

"Kitty." He says, his stare anchored on her face.

"Yeah, yeah. Ah know. That's the only time Ah can be with my _boyfriend._ When you're with Kitty." He shows his displeasure with a growl, but he's distracted when he sees Scott and a red head across the garden. He's stricken with such a distinct sense of longing when he hears her laugh and glide gracefully into Scott's arms. He wants to cut him. He knows it would only take seconds. Rogue sees the look in his eyes. "Logan, you can't do this every time you see her. Scott's gonna send you away."

He pulls himself from her grasp with a rabid snarl. He knew what that meant. "Sorry, sorry. Joke. Ah won't let you get taken anywhere, you know that." He relaxes once he believes her, trying to fight the impulse to look at Jean. Smell Jean. Touch Jean...

_"You... You don't understand, Scott." The brunette's forehead wrinkled instantly. Her powers had been driving her crazy. She was picking up every thought and micro-emotion. The Danger Room had cleared out a long time ago, but Logan and Jean hung back. For the second time that week. The X-Men's leader had had it. _

_"I don't understand exercises? Really?" He moved closer to his fiancé, and Logan growled softly. "What's going on with you?" _

_"You can't handle our level of stress reduction, boy scout." Logan spits, knowing he's walking a very fine line and he's doing it on purpose. Because, when it came to Jean he couldn't think straight. "You're not quite as wild and unrestrained as us. We gotta blow stuff up in here so we don't do it out there." Scott only snorts, folding his arms in his X-Jacket, looking offended. _

_"You, maybe. Not Jean."_

_"I just need to unwind my powers sometimes, please don't make it a thing-" Jean shuts her eyes when his mouth drops. _

_"A thing?" Scott shook his head. "When we have this sentinel problem handled, we're gonna figure out 'this thing'. Or, I'm done." _

_"Scott!" Logan lashed his claws as he retreated. _

_"Let him go, Red." _

He made Jean cry that day. The thought throws Logan instantly into a rage. He slips Rogue's grip and flies across the lawn. "WATCH OUT!" Scott's on the defensive, immediately. He tossed Jean out of harms way and prepared to unload his optic blasts into the wild mutant. _'Damn it, Logan._' Jean throws a hand up before he gets a chance, halting their raging teammate in the air.

"I _got him,_ Scott." He only folded his arms with a scowl.

"You're supposed to _watch him_ better." He snapped at Rogue when she landed, making Logan growl ferociously.

"Ah_ was-"_

"It's not her fault, Scott. She's and Kitty have lives. Besides, I think my avoiding him is just making this worse..." She hated the look in his eyes, like she'd abandoned him. Like, he knew it was his fault she was avoiding him, but he couldn't understand why. Why Scott, and not him. Every time. These were feelings of the old Logan, as well. "I should spend time with him."

Scott's face twitches, and then he laughs. Of course. "Right." Is all he says, looking down at a brown leather jacket.

"Maybe, he'll stop acting out. Ah gotta deal with my _other_ feral, or you'll have to deal with me bein' single, again." She watched as Jean lowered Logan down, seeing him be calmer than she's seen him be since his injury. He senses the distinct feeling of her jealousy, and his skin ripples with tension. "He's calm. Great. Ah'll be on the roof." With that, she took to the air as Scott watched.

"Not too long, Jean." Is all her fianceé says in defeat. "I'll find Kitty, the professor doesn't think it's a good idea for you to try and work on his mind." He left off that he thinks this is partially how they'd gotten in this mess, to begin with. Jean doesn't pay him any mind, holding her hand in front of Logan's face while he examined it. Soon, they were sitting alone in the grass.

_"Red._" Logan grunts, wondering why he felt such a calm in his chest. Even beyond 'Kit' and 'Stripe'. She did something differently for him, his desire to kill for her was different. He would protect her with his life, but he knows she doesn't need as much protection as the others. She makes him want to strike out of jealousy. He knows red can eat a man alive, she's doing it to him. He hates Scott because he wants him for herself. These thoughts are a little too complicated for his tired brain, but as he looks at her, he understands.

She's the sun. She's his calm. His peace. She's the only one who fixes his mind. He sat still as he stared into emerald eyes, touching her face softly. "Right, Logan. Red._ Jean."_

"Jean." He's quick to repeat, with effort as he leans forward. There's so many memories of her face swirling in her mind, and his brain classified it differently than the others. She clasped her hand over his and pressed it to her face. So unbearably warm. He studied the soft material of her purple turtleneck, savored her scent of warm air and clean sheets.

"Are you in pain?" He studies her, not just content to rattle off a response, but think of what he says.

"It's okay." He settles for, and he frowns.

"Don't fight against it." She places a gentle touch on his forehead, and he croons. "Your body is doing everything is needs to to get better, let it heal." His fighting instincts are still strong, but the man is very anxious to become 'himself'. It has been the reason for his ornery behavior.

"Fight." He says, lost in green eyes. She laughs and it made his stomach hurt.

"Yes, Logan. Of course. Fight." He was the same man she'd known for years, and yet he wasn't. Her desire to help him became too strong._ 'I know... I can bring a little of him out...'_ She reached carefully for his temples, and he watched her.

_"Oh, now ya got time to see your good time guy..." Logan says bitterly, his back to the red head in the Danger Room. What the two shared was wild, unexpected, and unexplainable. But, it still mattered to him. He had no Scott. Nothing, to fall back on. Make him feel normal. Maybe, they were out of control, but it was a damn good thing. Something worth tearing down the school. _

_"Don't be that way, Logan." He won't look at her. She's wearing a light blue dress that looks like heaven. Besides, he could smell it on her. There would be no revisiting whatever they had. Scott proposed to her, probably because he felt her slipping away. "You know... I, I want you, there." _

_"I was gonna get some training in, tonight. If you could clear the room." She hung her head and obeyed, covering her face to sob as soon as she was out of earshot. At least, she thought. _

_'Made her cry...'_ Logan thought angrily incensed by his own memory. "NO," His claws shot out and luckily only caught Jean's wrist, barely. Her startled cry alerted Piotr, and then both Kitty and Scott were running through the garden. Remy had almost convinced Rogue to let him give her a massage when she saw the ruckus on the lawn, tearing off from the roof to mediate.

Scott's blast tears into the lawn, but misses Logan.

"Scott_, wait!_" Jean tries, frantic. Logan didn't need any new wounds to heal.

"Leave him _alone!"_ Kitty begins as he froths on the ground, like a cornered animal. "Why was he out here alone? Without me or Rogue?" She declared, diving to the man's defense. "You know he can't _help it,_ Scott. Don't attack him!"

"Attack _him_? Look at Jean's arm!" His voice was shaking. He had no patience, anymore. He'd hurt Jean as he said he would, and he'd crossed a line. Kitty frowned at the three scratches, luckily no worse than bad cat wounds. She was trying not to wince as she held her forearm.

"I'm fine, _really._" Rogue huffed as she landed in the grass.

"Ya go in his _mind_, like the professor specifically asked you not to?" She asked, her eyes narrowed. He was most violent when he smelled Scott, and after sessions in his head. Jean couldn't be helped to not try to fix something, and it'd finally backfired.

"N-No, I mean... I don't know. I was just trying to glow." Rogue scoffed as she lifted the wild man to his feet.

"Typical. All gotta be about _you_." Rogue clamped her mouth shut before she said more._ 'Hasn't enough?'_

"Rogue, wait." Jean begins, standing while Scott scowls.

"C'mon... Let's get you inside." Kitty says as she tugs him along. Jean moves to speak to Scott, but he's already heading back to the school.


	4. Touch

"Oh... Come on, Logan. You_ love_ painting. This... Always made you feel better, before." Kitty's painting was turning into a warm, watercolor field of powers (quite good after Piotr's art tutoring). Logan used to paint still life's with Jean and before he recovered more of his psyche, Charles used painting as a therapy. In his current state, Logan used colors and explosive techniques to communicate complex feelings that escaped words.

Bright, greens and yellows and he was feeling happy. Energetic. Hopeful. Blues and greys, wistful. Orange and red brash, and anxious. Kitty had gotten pretty good at interpreting his art to read his mood. But, his canvas was blank. His stare was on the floor as he sat hunched on a stool, refusing to paint anything. He hurt Jean. He was playing the moment over and over in his head. _"Logan..._" She sighed, losing interest in her own picture. "1600 score on my SATs, but I can't cheer you up." She sighs.

When he'd healed enough, Jean could potentially fix his mind. She could at least use her powers to soothe him when he was agitated. And, Rogue's skin was impervious to his claws. She was strong enough to hold him back, reprimand him, and hold him to the standard of the old him. Kitty was having a hard time seeing how she helped him through this traumatic time.

He sensed her disappointment and frowned. "No." His pains were far from her fault. Any of their faults. He pointed to her face, his eyes solemn. "Good." He insists, studying her painting. "Everything good." He forces himself to articulate. He moved brown bangs from the girl's eyes and examined. Blue. Gentle. Kind. He moves a blunt finger to his own chest. "Make me good."

Her expression melts as she sets the brushes down. "Don't give us credit for who _you_ are. There's a reason everyone at this school is here for you." She says, setting a palette of paint in his rough hands. Scarred. He watches as she mixes blue and white together. His mind drifts to Scott, and then he becomes angry. He's always with Jean. When he's not, he's arguing wth someone. "Because, you've helped all of us."

"Not everyone." He snarls, watching the couple get in a car through the window. To get away from all the insanity, no doubt. Kitty's brow wrinkles. He looks down when she lays a hand on his arm.

"Him, too. You know how Scott gets, when he can't fix something he gets really crabby." Logan only sniffed. "You'll see. You'll get more memories of him, you'll see there's more to him than an irritable, broken record..." Logan smirks at her words. Her mind was quick, he loves that about her. "Now. Can you paint, at least a_ little_? You know Rogue will fuss." She laughs when when his face sours.

He loved the girl, but she could get to nagging. Growling, he dragged his brush through all the colors and slapped it on the canvas. "Everybody's a comedian..."

* * *

Kurt's tail swished behind him as he followed behind Hank and the professor, moving through the lab. "So... Logan. He's_ healing,_ right? I never thought I'd be saying this, but I don't know how many more of Scott's sessions I can take." Hank chuckles, pulling his glasses down the bridge of his nose as he studied medical notes of Wolverine's. He didn't know if it was a power trip, or what. But, Scott was driving everyone a little insane.

"Oh, Mr. Summers wearing you down?" Hank asks, studying the results of Logan's latest CAT scan. The teleporter can't read his expression, but he's praying for good news.

_"Ja_, you know it. He's being a total narc." Charles bites back on a smile as Kurt rubs his neck.

"Now, Kurt..." Hank's forehead wrinkled.

"Yes, Logan is healing, my friend. His brain activity is growing more and more complex with every scan. I've seen him even have inner dialogues with himself, this is a remarkable progress!" Kurt's eyes brightened. He would love for things to get close to normal.

"T-That's good, _right?_" Charles nodded.

"Yes, but healing is... A _difficult_ word for what Logan is going through. He has retained a lot of memories, and even more feelings. But, this time now he is forming _new_ memories. Becoming someone... Who could be different than the person we knew. We must give him time. Remind him of who he is, that we will accept him no matter the changes." Kurt nodded, slowly.

"It might be a while before he's in the Danger Room or on missions, again." Hank admits, regrettably. He clapped a hand on the other blue mutant when he sees the fear on his face. "But, I am confident he will be, again." Kurt's following smile is genuine. He spent his time basically rearing and looking out for them when he was younger, Kurt could wait.

"Besides, he's in good hands."

* * *

_"Y'sure_ you okay?" The southern mutant studied perspiration rolling down his girlfriend's neck. Her forehead was tense and twitching, silver hair clinging to her face. She was so beautiful, especially to him. Like an old painting of a mysterious woman, a statue of goddess. Nobody should've been more excited than Remy about the inhibitor collar breakthrough.

Hank finally cracked the code on the terrifying technology. And, though he was able to temper a lot of the adverse effects, it still caused Rogue great discomfort. Nobody liked the feeling of wearing it, but it didn't interact well her mutation. She wears it sporadically to gain a tolerance so she'll be brave enough to walk around without gloves. But, they've still got a ways to go. To her getting used to it and used to intimacy. She had Remy have only had a few moments of kissing. A few wonderful moments of bliss until he becomes aware that she's in_ pain._

He would rather not touch her and get inventive, but he knows it meant a lot to her to overcome. She smiles at him, her eyes half lidded as she forces his bare hand to touch her neck. He frowns, her skin is warm. "Never better, what're ya waitin' for?" If only love and overcoming their own hurdles was as simple as a tough fight. Something miserable to suffer through, Rogue would get through it, easily.

But, it still shocks her that someone she loves takes no joy or expectation from her pain._ "Petite,_" All the things he's done, said, taken but he wouldn't do this. He pushed her hands down with a frown, his eyes studying the strappy detail of his shirt. "You know Remy wanna do_ nothin'_ more den touch ya..." He dragged his fingers across the X-Logo of her collar and shut it off. "But, not if you in pain. _Nothin' _worth that." He can't help but feel exasperated when she scowls up at him.

"Since _when_ do y-" She raises a finger to point, but he catches her wrist.

"Don' _want_ no normal experience, Rogue." His frankness makes her eye grow wide as they stand, alone in the upstairs hallway. He rifled a hand through her hair. "Don' want no normal girl, normal life. If Remy _did_," He brought her close to him, carefully. "Remy wouldn't be here." Her cheeks grow red from embarrassment, but she leans into his touch. His smile fades when tears form in her eye.

_"Ah_ wanna be normal, Remy. More than_ anythin_'. Just... Just for once. For a _little while._" He sighs when her shoulders shake, she's fighting tears. Nobody could really understand what she lived with, even if they tried. Of course her friends don't to see her in pain, trying to temper who and what she really is. It went against the mission of the school. But, they also don't know what years of physical isolation felt like. She did.

_"Chére,_ i-" A whizzing blur passes them both, and Rogue reaches up in shock to find her collar gone. Shattered. The cracked remains are in Logan's rough hand. He tossed the fractured technology on the ground, a look of disgust on his face. Remy examined Hank's hard work, splattered. Destroyed. It'd taken a long time for him to create a remotely wearable one. "_Sacré bleu..."_

"Logan, WHAT D-" Words escape her as she's realizes she's back at square one. "You... YOU,"

"No." His anger didn't seem to be placed at the cajun, he was staring dead at Rogue. He pointed an accusing finger at her. _"Hurts."_

_Logan paced back and forth, taking Hank's inhibitor collar the exact opposite of everyone else. Those symbolized prison, and he knew the collars were only for one person. Rogue. She'd had them slapped around her neck to nullify her powers and have her captured, he didn't want to see her walk around in one. Especially, when he knows she's determined enough to work to control. "All I want you to understand is that there's nothin' wrong with you. Just how you are, how you've always be-" _

_"Ah wasn't always this way." He snarls at the tears forming in her eyes. The way her hand is trembling, clutching tight to the collar. Like it's her only chance. "In fact, there was a whole lotta time Ah coulda been normal. And Ah wasted it, 'cause let's face it, Logan. Ah'm built bad. My powers, whatever they're supposed to be. It's not this. Control is not a Danger Room session away, not for m-" _

_"Someone who loves you would never ask you to do this." His voice is shaking. The girl's whole life hurt. She didn't know her own parents, for a while she didn't remember her own name without Charles' help. She's been so isolated and alone, and now she has to be in stinging pain to touch. Kiss. Love. It wasn't fair, and if nobody else would say it, he would. "Nobody deser-" _

_"Ah want this. Ah deserve! Me. You hear it? Ah want to be normal, nobody understands that Ah'm not! Ah don't want to feel like a punishment to him, anymore. A dange-" _

_"You're not dangerous!" Logan screamed back. He was dangerous, there were things lurking in his mind that even Charles wouldn't face. He could take the entire mansion out, even her with her unbreakable skin. He still remembers how leaving Carol Danvers has affected her. She still visits. Still begs Charles to do consults, to search for medicine or magic that can help her. The girl wasn't a killer, not like he was, She's probably most scared of hurting someone. _

_"Tell that to him. He tried to kiss me and and was in the infirmary for three days! Ah'm gettin' worse! It felt like his whole mind was crammed in my head, Ah had a New Orleans accent for days." Ororo had produced herself in the doorway, the others upset by the yelling. _

_"You guys..." _

_"No! I'm not grinnin' and bearin' this, Storm." _

"Alright, alright_ chére._ Deep breaths, like ya stress an' anger management classes say..." Remy ducks when he sees the following look on her face. "Y'know Hank says ya at risk for anuery-" She elbows him before he finishes his sentence.

_"Someone'_s ornery. You got energy, c'mon then. Ah'm goin' on a fly before Ah_ break somethin'_." She snatched the remnants from Logan's hands and shoved them at Remy. "Get this to Hank, please." She glowers at Logan before hovering out the back patio doors, hands shoved angrily in her green jacket. Rogue wonders if she were ever this difficult. This frustrating. And, she's sure she was.

When they're both standing in the grass, she looked at him. "Try to keep up." He smirks, taking off on all fours under her as she soared through the air. They both felt free, connected when they raced together. Nothing but wind between them. She often did it when her head got loud or she had an argument, and she wasn't mad anymore when she touched back down. Nothing really mattered after see the land grow small, Logan a fleeing dot.

She could fly away and leave it all behind, they wouldn't find her. She never would. But, it's nice to know she can. Logan doesn't have a hard time keeping up with her as she screams through the air. What Logan's lost in higher thought and communication skills is bolstered by his wild, natural energy. His reflexes were impeccable before, but Rogue swears he's acquired some sixth sense to compensate. Something.

He catches student and faculty trying to sneak out, constantly. He's beat all his old times in Danger Room and shaved minutes off. He was unstoppable with some of his humanity removed. All she wanted was the old Logan back. To know he was worried. In pain. Himself. She lands gracefully in front of him, seemingly not the least bit tired. His red and black flannel blew in the wind.

"Well, Ah feel better than Ah did before." She could never stay mad at the man, even when he deserved it. Silver strands of hair fell in her face as she stretched. intently. "Know ya do things because you care, but ya gotta let people make _their own_ choices." She sighed when he shook his head.

"Bad choice." He countered, not the least bit repentant. She hadn't expected him to be. The old Logan was rarely apologetic.

"Hmm. Says_ you._ You can touch whatever you want." He growled when the look in her eyes saddened, her stare on the grass. _'Like... The woman of your dreams.' _Of course she's every guy's dream. She looks down when she realizes his hand hovered over her glove.

"Be okay." He insists, his eyes sad. He always felt such a burden on the girl when he was around her.

"Yeah, I hope so. Are ya hungry? Ah'm gonna hop in the shower." He's shaking his head vehemently.

"Stay _outside._" Rogue blew on silver bangs, marveling at the cloudless sky and the unusually nice day.

"I dunno where Kitty is, c'mon." He dug his heels into the ground.

"Stay." He grinned as he pointed to himself. "Be good."

"Oh right, sure. Like you were bein' good when ya_ broke my collar_." He only answers with a look, one Rogue doesn't feel like deciphering. "Fine. Ah'll take a quick one. Stay on the grounds, Logan. Ah mean it, if Ah gotta come after you..." He snickers at her mad face and waggling finger, and she gives up and heads to her room for solitude.

Touch is the lingering word on his mind as she flies away. Not even he with his healing factor can touch her skin, and it makes him powerless to help her. 'Touch.'

_"No, here. Like this." Jean stood over Logan, her hands reaching into the grey, cold clay. He's trying to ignore her chest pressed against him, how her natural scent smelled like a million dollar perfume. That everything she touches becomes beautiful, maybe even him. She laughs and he fears his face has turned red, like her hair he can't stop staring at. "See? You've gotta be a little gentler with your hands." _

_He nods, trying not to leer at her suggestively in that old purple shirt she used to wear. She's a woman now, and if he looks at her she'll read his nastiest thoughts. "Uh huh. I think ya cheatin'." He says, watching her clay start to take form. A frowning man, with whiskers._

_"I don't need telekinesis to make art." She retorts, secretly studying the man as he kneaded the clay. She could watch him do anything. Work on his bike, chop wood. Name it. He had a sureness and a finality in the way he did things, and she found it mesmerizing. _

_"Take a picture, Red." She sees the unsureness in his eyes. He's been poked, prodded, and kept like a specimen. He doesn't like being studied, even by her. _

_"I'm sorry, I.." A tool clattered to the ground as he stood, peering up into Jean's eyes. He reached up with stubby fingers and ran them through her hair. _

_'Red.' _


End file.
